


That Smile

by Anndalchahal



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Choking, Cunnilingus, F/F, Face Slapping, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:43:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2765177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anndalchahal/pseuds/Anndalchahal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fairly quickly produced piece of short porny femslash, as part of my "actually produce some writing, damn it" drive. Constructive feedback very welcome.</p>
<p>Root/Shaw, an abandoned subway building, a Shaw in need of relaxation and a Root who is more than willing to help out (while still being very much herself, of course.)</p>
<p>(If you're curious WHICH smile this is, it's this one: http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/pediaofinterest/images/2/21/2x15_Root.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20130916164209 )</p>
<p>(You may have seen this pop up last night, I got confused with how pseuds worked and... yes. Well. Please enjoy this repost :P)</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Smile

It wasn’t long before Root was pinned against the subway wall by her throat - it somehow never took very long.

“Be gentle with me.” She purred, between deep breaths.

“Then shut the hell up.” Shaw replied in a quiet almost-growl, tightening her grip.

Root, trying to squeak out an answer, instead smiled up at her - that beautiful, smug smile she always used.

 

The sound of flesh striking flesh rang out around the abandoned room, and the beginning of a red mark started to form on Root’s cheek.

“Not messing around today?” Root asked, between her panting and giggling.

Shaw answered with another slap - it probably wouldn’t work, but she had to try and wipe that smile off her face.

“What did Harold send you off to do anyway?”  
“I’d really rather not talk about it.” Shaw replied, grabbing hold of a clump of her hair.

“Well honey, is there anything I can-” Root began, interrupted by being pulled to the ground by her hair.

 

Root looked up - blurrily, a tear welling in her eye - to see Shaw ripping the front of her dress.

“A shame, I really liked that dress on you.”

Shaw firmly pushed Root against the wall in response, leaving her contorted, aching, yet still she craned her neck up invitingly. Shaw didn’t need any invitation, but she took it anyway - stepping over her and straddled her face forcefully, with a firm hand balled in her hair.

 

Root knew it wasn’t the time for gentleness and teasing licks, and quickly began roughly lapping at her throbbing clit. The two fingers she forced inside her was met with a deep groan between her shallow breaths and gasping.

Shaw began to let out small moans as she tightened her grip in her hair - she barely noticed Root muffled whining in pain over the fog in her head: the tongue on her clit that was firm yet still managed to hit all the right places, the fingers mercilessly working their way in and out of her, and that smug, self-satisfied, gorgeous woman in a messy heap on the floor in front of her.

“If you stop this time,” Shaw managed to say, somehow maintaining a paper-thin aura of calm, “I will leave you a bloody pulp.”

Root didn’t stop - she felt Shaw’s legs almost give out, and she reached out to steady her as she worked in a third finger. Feeling Shaw squeeze tightly around her fingers, she rammed them in as deep as she could - exactly what Shaw needed. Letting out a deep groan as a surge of sensation pulsed through her, Shaw half stumbled backwards, shivering gently as it passed over her. She loosened her grip on Root’s hair and she fell backwards, gasping for air, her face soaked and her eyes watering.

 

It took a few seconds for them to recompose themselves.

 

“Wanna snuggle?” Root asked, slumped against the wall, exhausted, breathless, with that smile still plastered across her face.

Shaw glanced down at her. “I’m good.” Shaw replied, turning to leave.

“Same time tomorrow?” Root asked, as the door creaked open.

“Wear something pretty.”

 

 


End file.
